Butterfly in a Bell Jar
by SomethingIDontKnow
Summary: Young Graverobber can't pay off the lungs he needed to survive the car accident that took his parents. Now, after two years on the street selling Zydrate and running from the Repo Man, his luck has run out. Or has it? Graverobber/Nathan  Repo Man
1. Capture

**Title: Butterfly in a Bell Jar**

**Chapter: 1 (Capture)**

**Author: SomethingIDontKnow**

**Rating: T (For gay romance, gore, and violence)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera. Gods know I wish I did. **

**Author's Note: A lot of my stories begin with someone who's lost it all, and this one will be one of the Legion. Maybe kinda AU. Cause the events of the movie wont happen here. **

**Summary: Young Graverobber can't pay off the lungs he needed to survive the car accident that took his parents. Now, after two years on the street selling Zydrate and running from the Repo Man, his luck has run out. But when his death offers salvation, what will the broken young man do to survive?**

It was too damn dark. That wasn't too unusual, if Graverobber stopped to think about it. But there would be little thinking and no stopping right now. Only motion. Forward motion.

Running, to be exact.

Why a fourteen year old boy would be running though such decrepit, dark alleys would be a mystery to most. But the boy on the run would understand.

He couldn't pay. He knew that when he'd accepted the transplant. But he had been in so much pain, on so many drugs, and so frightened, it was the only choice he could have made. The car accident had taken his parents and nearly taken him. Now his lungs were not his.

No, those were Gene Co.'s.

And now he would pay for his survival with his death. For two years he'd managed to avoid the Repo Man. Two years of graveyards and tombs and collecting Zydrate to keep himself alive. And just barely. Now, his luck had run out, it was the end. Literally.

He had just turned left into a short ally ending in a brick wall.

Slapping a bare palm against the cold stone, the boy now known as Graverobber sobbed quietly, sliding to his knees. His forehead to his knee, he covered the back of his neck with his hands and prayed to a god he didn't really remember that he wouldn't be found.

That god must have been out at the moment.

A powerful grip took his forearm, dragging him up and turning him to face his death. Blinking back heavy tears, Graverobber looked up into the Repo Man's blue goggles. The eyes that looked back at him were cold, and glinting, and too damn happy to have him suspended inches from the ground.

The Repo Man dropped him, letting the boy sprawl on the filthy ally floor. He set his bag down and opened it, drawing out a scalpel. Giving up hope, Graverobber only lay there, watching him draw the glinting silver blade to his throat. The Repo Man paused, and there was only the sound of Graverobber's breathing and sirens in the distance.

"Why aren't you afraid?"

To match his appearance, the Repo Man had a voice that was deep and gravely. "Just kill me and get it over with." Graverobber sighed, looking away, "do me the favor." "What is this?" The Repo Man asked, his hard voice softening on the edge, "Are you so hopeless, young man?" Graverobber looked up into his eyes, now curious, not so cold. "yes." he said quietly, "now please do it." He tipped back his chin, baring his throat.

"I would like to, little one." Repo murmured, stroking the edge of the blade back against the soft skin of Graverobber's throat, "but now I see you won't scream. Won't give me the satisfaction hearing you sputter for your dying breath." He was wistful now, mourning the loss of such pleasure. Graverobber murmured, "No." "Then what am I to do?" the flat of the blade caressed the pulse at the base of his throat, "those lungs are to be returned, unless you manage to pay. And I don't see that happening. But to kill you without satisfaction? That would be such a waste." "I could barely stay alive selling Zydrate." Graverobber breathed, "I cannot afford the surgery. I have no options. No meaning anymore. Please, just end me."

"And if I gave you back your meaning?"

Grave robber looked up at him, eyes wide, black painted lips parted in surprise. This new voice was soft, gentle. Those eyes were suddenly concerned, the brush of the scalpel so tender. "Wh-"

"Hush." The scalpel lay against his cheek now, the edge scraping his skin so gently. "Yes, I'll help you, little one. Come back with me. Be my assistant. You're so soft. Just a boy. And The Repo Man needs a helper."

The Repo Man stood, leaving the ragged urchin lying on the ally floor. "will you be my assistant, if I get Gene Co. off your back?" he asked. His expression was open and honest as he offered a hand.

The boy known as Graverobber looked up at the hand, transfixed, confused. But he reached up, with trembling hands and took the assistance. To be his assistant. Looking up into kind eyes, he let this stranger put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

Some how, in that embrace, he knew he was safe. Graverobber was safe. He was free from the streets. From Gene Co. He was now in the service of The Repo Man.


	2. Normalcy

**Title: Butterfly in a Bell Jar**

**Chapter: 2 (Normalcy)**

**Author: SomethingIDontKnow**

**Rating: T (For gay romance, gore, and violence)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera. Gods know I wish I did. **

**Author's Note: Yeah, Nathan's a bit of a peado. But I let poor Graverobber grow up some!**

**Summary: A day in the life of the Repo Man's assistant and Nathan's only friend. In which, we examine the difference between the two and the way Graverobber must handle them both. **

Graverobber sat up in his bed suddenly. Not particularly in fear or worry. But it was the way he'd woken up for two years before coming to Nathan. And for the three years following. It was dark out still, the dim sun still a few hours away. But young Graverobber rose in spite of it, gathering his clothes for a shower. Three years ago, in just a few days, Nathan, the Repo Man, took in a homeless boy to be his assistant. The boy, then known as Graverobber, had defaulted on payments. Now, three years later, he still went by the name, refusing Nathan's kind offers to give him a real one.

His shower was cold. He didn't particularly enjoy the early morning torment, but he needed the jolt to wake him. He washed his long, dark hair and toweled it dry when he got out. Standing naked in the white tile bathroom designated for him, Graverobber stared at himself in the mirror. He was deathly pale. Time on the dark streets and years living in a basement, leaving only at night, had denied him the kiss of sunlight. His eyes were dark, ringed with thick lashes. Those eyes moved down his perfect nose to gaze at his mouth. His lips were pale as well. But Nathan generously allowed Graverobber to paint his mouth in shades of black. Shifting his sight upward, he examined his hair. It was too long, but Nathan had never forced Graverobber to cut it, permitting the boy his last comforts in life. Graverobber combed out his messy hair and tied it back before dressing. Black jeans, white button up shirt.

He put on his black apron as he entered The Repo Man's surgical suite. The floor was stained with blood and the steel table was still dripping crimson. Sighing, Graverobber went to the closet to find the washing equipment.

Hosing down the concrete floor, he washed away what he could and returned with a heavy floor brush to scrub away the rest. The bloody water sloshed down the steel drain in the center of the floor. The table needed a hand brushing and a thorough soaping. The tools were rinsed and soaped and rinsed again. Once everything was brightly clean, Graverobber put away his supplies and washed his hands up to the elbows, scrubbing away any trace of the filth. He didn't want Nathan to have to think about him cleaning up The Repo Man's mess.

Nathan and The Repo Man were two very different men.

The Repo Man was cruel and gleeful and loved inflicting pain. Even on Graverobber, his dutiful assistant. The man had no tolerance for nonpayment. Or noncompliance. If Graverobber ever dared to meet his eyes, the boy would find himself sprawled on the wet concrete, his cheek aching, and his eye turning faintly purple. The man would laugh in his disturbed way, stalking out into the night, only to return with his coat and helmet soaked in blood. Leaving an aching Graverobber to clean the mess.

Nathan, on the other hand, would always fall to his knees at Graverobber's side, caressing the forming bruise with cool fingers. He was always so repentant, so sorry for whatever the Repo Man had done. Graverobber loved Nathan. The man was kind and gentle. He was the father and doctor to his beloved daughter. He was the only person Graverobber had come to trust since the accident that had taken his previous life. The boy knew he would suffer the wrath of The Repo Man for days to have even a moment of Nathan's sweet nurturing.

Cleaning the surgical suite had taken about an hour, and washing up the bloodied tools used another half. By then, the sun was peeking over the horizon and Graverobber went to the kitchen to seek out a small breakfast.

To his surprise, Nathan was already there, making pancakes, humming tunelessly to himself. "hello." he said, turning and giving the boy a tired smile. Graverobber withheld the desire to kiss that smile from his face with much struggle. "Hello, Nathan." he said with a smile of his own, moving to stand beside him, wiping up the messy counter. "Don't worry about it; I'll take care of it." Graverobber shook his head and kept cleaning.

It saddened him sometimes, that Nathan rarely said his name, the older man insisting that he deserved better than a street name that wasn't even accurate of his position anymore.

Graverobber had jokingly asked, "What should I be called then? Assistant?" Nathan's face had fallen suddenly and his voice became very soft. "You're _his _assistant." he had cupped Graverobber's face gently, for the first and last time, "I like to think you're my friend." Lacking anything better to say, Graverobber had merely nodded mutely and Nathan stood to go check up on Shiloh.

Now, Nathan stopped Graverobber's scrubbing to hand him a plate of breakfast, nodding to the table. The pair sat down and shared their morning meal in companionable silence and soft small talk. The quiet wasn't exactly necessary, Shiloh was often too preoccupied with the world outside her window to worry about the world her father shared with a boy she had never met, but Nathan was a careful man. A part of Graverobber did resent being kept like a dirty secret. But most of him understood.

Nathan was lonely. With no one but his daughter (whom he was sure hated him, and rightly so, or so he believed.) for company and absolutely no one to share his darkest secret with, he lived a cold and lonely life. Graverobber treasured being such a wonderful, tormented man's companion, even though a part of him craved more.

It had begun a year into his service. The Repo Man beat Graverobber a lot in those days. Enough that he had questioned the benefits of staying with the mad man. But Nathan was always there to soothe the hurt. Gone were the dark clothes and cold, jeering eyes. This man wore soft, muted browns, and his eyes were always so kind and concerned.

His hands though, were the best part. Nathan's hands were soft and cool. His broad palms soothing Graverobber though the worst of his nightmares, deft fingers plying bubbles of laughter from him when they had a moment to play. It was almost like having a father again. But with some stark differences.

Graverobber had never once wondered how it would feel to run his fingers though his father's hair. He never once dreamed the sort of things he dreamed about Nathan. Graverobber loved Nathan. But in a way he knew sons should not love fathers. And every time Nathan's fingertips brushed his, or he watched the older man school the Repo Man from his features, he was grateful the man he loved more than life itself was not his father.

**Summary: Well, that took forever. I've just got loads of things to work on. No excuses though, reviews are my fuel, so feel free to power this story…**


	3. Intimate

**Title: Butterfly in a Bell Jar**

**Chapter: 3 (****Intimate****)**

**Author: SomethingIDontKnow**

**Rating: M **

**Warnings: Slash, gore, violence, ****semi-explicit ****sex, and language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera. Gods know I wish I did.**

**Author's Note: ****Finally, right? And I come back with smut. I'm a little rusty, so let's see how it goes. ****Let's give it a year from last chapter, just so we're legal on this one.**

**Summary: He had never thought to allow his feelings to translate to action. It wasn't what he had intended. But now, looking down, he realizes that for all the fact that this place is fragile, ****that Nathan is fragile, ****he wouldn't ****trade it for anything.**

There had been six repossessions that night, all deep. Despite all the cover he wears, blood still finds it's way onto his skin.

Nathan bursts through the workroom's back entrance, blood, still warm, dripping from his suit. The book Graverobber is reading hits the couch and he is on his feet. "I- Gr- Oh god." Nathan throws the helmet across the workroom, his hands shaking violently. "Help me, please." His plea is a gasp, choked around the fact he is trying very had not to gag.

"Get in the shower." Graverobber gives him a shove toward the wash racks, forcing himself away a moment to breathe. Pieces of flesh cling to the suit, through the blood. Nathan is going to be wrecked. Is already, if The Repo Man has already left him. How much, Graverobber wonders, has he been witness to? He turns on the water, taking up the hose. "Your face, first." Graverobber says softly, ratcheting the pressure low.

Nathan closes his eyes, tipping his face back, his slicked back hair now tousled. Tears have already cleared trails in the blood on his cheeks. He looks... broken.

Graverobber takes a bare moment. Cupping one hand, he fills it with lukewarm water. The hose in his free hand, Graverobber steps in close, wet blood coming away on his loose white shirt.

Thin lips quirk into a frown when Nathan feels Graverobber's breath across his face. "What are you-" Graverobber pours the water over Nathan's cheek, to keep the blood from falling into his open mouth. The lightest of the bloodstain washes away easily, rivulets down the curve of his cheek, running down his neck. The warm water is followed by soft fingertips, brushing away blood clotted on his skin. "You-"

A fingertip presses his lips, a plea for trust.

"Close your mouth, let me do this."

A breath escapes Nathan, a bare sigh that makes Graverobber shiver when he feels it on his skin.

He goes to work. A handful of water at a time, he washes away the blood. The dirty water is running down into the suit, but that will come in time. This is about physical comfort, not protocol.

Graverobber touches in ways he has only dreamed of before. He strokes across Nathan's cheekbones, smooths the worry from his brow. Pale eyelashes are clumped with dried blood. He brushes it away with the pad of his thumb, feeling how hollow Nathan is becoming in the rim of eye socket.

And when his face is clean, relaxed for the first time in what feels like years, Graverobber leans in and pressess a soft kiss to his forehead. It is a dry kiss, no promise or implication. How he wishes it were not.

When he tips Nathan's chin back, he complies, baring his throat. Graverobber savors the feel of skin pulled taut over his Adam's apple, the curve of muscle disappearing under the suit collar. He washes Nathan's hair watching it lighten as blackish blood looses and comes away. Phantoms of fantasies blushed his pale face. How many times has he dreamt of this very thing? Abet, not in this circumstance. Being the one to wash away Nathan's sin, kiss his wet skin, bring heat to his cold flesh and make new his own sins.

He uses the hose now, the water running slow and creating an ever widening puddle around them. The amount of water is his clothes has to be getting uncomfortable, so Graverobber reaches to unbuckle the coat. A hand clamps around his wrist as he takes the clip.

He freezes, taking a slow breath. Has the Repo Man returned?

"Please, the blood on the suit," Nathan whispers hoarsely, his head still back, "get it off, I can't stand it a moment more."

Graverobber only nods, stepping back a moment and turning up the pressure slightly.

It did not mean he would be denied touching.

He runs the water over his shoulders, following with his hand and using his entire palm to loosen any clinging filth. Across his chest, Graverobber smooths his hand. Down Nathan's body, unchecked. Along his hips, feeling the strength in his legs, years of chasing victims of nonpayment. Graverobber memorizes the width of his shoulders, the gentle curve of his spine, tries not to be obvious about palming over his ass. He washes the suit's gloves, surprised by the bulk in his arms. He takes special care to wash the hands, taking the weight of Nathan's hand in his and committing it forever to his memory.

"It's done." Graverobber murmurs, and his heart is gripped with fear. Had it been too much? Would Nathan turn him away? For surely Nathan knew that his dutiful assistant had taken this moment, a rare moment of his pain manifest, and used it as little more than an opportunity to grope him?

But no, Nathan is limp, barely standing and still trembling weakly. "Do you mind- Helping me get it off? I just can't-" His voice is unsteady and Graverobber feels concern clench in his chest.

"I don't mind."

He's taller than Nathan, (somehow, it surprises him every time) and now Nathan is looking up at him as he takes the glove clip from his right shoulder. There is blood on his hands. Smeared down his arms and soaked into his operating smock. Graverobber peels away the suit and ruined smock, dropping the pieces into the pink puddle that lingers on the tile around them, refusing to be washes to the drain just yet.

Nathan is filthy with blood and some small part of Graverobber is appalled. The Repo Man must have been in manic fit. Nathan steps out of the slick suit pants, his boxers clinging to his skin. When Graverobber kneels to unbuckle his boots, Nathan rests a hand in his hair. For balance, no doubt, but Graverobber thrills at it, no matter how briefly. The boots are cast aside and Graverobber turns to washing bare skin. Shy now, clutching to the possibility that Nathan might not know the truth, his touches are much more clinical.

But when Nathan leans into lingering hands, he knows he is lost. He worships openly, blessing clean skin with confirming kisses.

His own clothes are soaked, white shirt clinging to every contour of his torso, jeans heavy with water. It is uncomfortable and getting cold quickly and Graverobber does not give a damn. He holds Nathan's dripping body close and when he puts his lips to Nathan's hair, he can smell something soft and male and so very Nathan that his knees go weak.

He is trembling and no doubt freezing, but when his shoulders jerk and a gasp escapes the muffle of Graverobber's chest, it is tears, not cold, that makes him wrap his arms around his assistant and cling as though he were dying. "Don't- Don't let go." Nathan whimpers, melting into Graverobber, "Please don't let me go."

"Never." Graverobber whispers, one hand cupping his head, "No matter what happens, Nathan."

They sink to the floor, on their knees, holding tight and whispering desperate affirmation. "Am I a monster?" Nathan asks weakly and a chill goes through Graverobber.

"Of course not, Nathan." He whispers back fiercely, "You are a good man, a good father. I know you don't enjoy what you do."

"But he does." Nathan's whimper is broken, "He loves it. And he's part of me, isn't he?"

"I don't know." Graverobber admits, petting a hand over Nathan's wet hair, thrilled when it seems to soothe him, "I believe he is someone your mind created to protect you from your work." he murmurs. It's the first time he's had the opportunity to share this theory with Nathan. "He loves his work as much as you loathe it."

Nathan sniffles, his grip tightening. He mumbles something and Graverobber cannot believe his ears. "What, Nathan?" he asks, breathless.

"Will- will you kiss me?" Nathan's pain is matched only by his panic, "I- I know you won't if you don't want to and I just need to know that you still think I'm-" He's cut off by Graverobber taking his mouth. Their first kiss. It is sweet and though Nathan is desperate, Graverobber only strokes back his hair and refuses to open his mouth. Once Nathan calms down, a pliant little whimper escaping him, Graverobber forces him open takes what he really wants. It's a filthy kiss, demanding and dripping the promise that Graverobber had earlier denied. "Worth it." Nathan finishes when they finally come apart, looking dazed.

Graverobber takes in his wet lips and glazed eyes and can't resist a second kiss. "Worth it?" he asks breathlessly, "Nathan, I- I want you. Fuck, I want you so bad. Always want you." He wraps an arm around Nathan and pulls him flush, pressing the evidence of his desire to Nathan's hip.

Nathan fists Graverobber's white shirt and the moan he tries to hide in Graverobber's shoulder is pure submission. "Please." Nathan mouths, "Yes, please. I want you to."

"Nathan." Graverobber's heart has stopped, stuttering back into motion when Nathan kisses lightly at the corner of his mouth, whimpering.

"I need it. Need you." Nathan is shameless, dripping wet and naked, pleading. Graverobber takes him in his arms and comes to a decision.

Somehow, they make it to Graverobber's little bedroom, his full sized bed, Graverobber fumbling and stripping naked the whole way. Nathan is shivering, more fright than cold, Graverobber decides, and remedies it with a few earnest kisses. He takes Nathan's hands in his own, squeezing gently before guiding him back to the bed. His mattress doesn't creak as Nathan tumbles back, or as he joins him, urging him back and back, until he is stretched out properly on crisp white sheets.

"You're beautiful." Graverobber whispers, leaning up for a bare brush of lips, and opportunity to tease his small nipples, already taut. Thin lips fix around the little bud and Graverobber suckles gently, thumbing the other lightly. His skin tastes of salt and sweat, distantly of soap.

Nathan moans outright, tangling a hand in thick black hair, the other fisting the sheets. "Please," he whimpers, "Don't tease me. I need-"

Graverobber cups him through his shorts, feeling out his thickness. "Don't worry." he whispers against red skin, "I won't last long either." Keeping one hand on Nathan's cock, Graverobber reaches for his bedside table with the other. Damn whatever gods are left, he's been preparing for this, praying in the dead of night for a miracle. There's a bottle and four foil packets in the drawer. Taking a packet and the bottle, he drops them beside the pillow, looking down into Nathan's flushed face.

"Are you sure?" He has to ask. If they do this and Nathan wakes up tomorrow and hates him, Graverobber had a feeling he won't survive the night.

Nathan nods eagerly, murmuring, "Yes, please, damn it." when that doesn't seem to be enough.

"You'll be more comfortable on your front." Graverobber says, hands stroking over Nathan's hips. The idea that he'll soon be inside seems surreal.

Nathan sakes his head. "I don't care." he looks away. "I… I want this."

"It'll hurt."

"I know."

Something in Graverobber panics at that. "If this is some kind of… self flagellation-"

"No!" Nathan is blushing, embarrassed now. He closes his eyes and takes a slow breath. "I want… I want to feel how much you care for me. I want to feel loved." The panic melts into warmth and care and now he knows to make sure Nathan never feels like Graverobber doesn't love him absolutely.

Nathan's arousal has faded some in his embarrassment and Graverobber asks him to lift his hips to get his shorts off and tuck a pillow under him. He has Nathan spread out on his bed, naked and desperate for him. Graverobber takes a moment to pray he isn't dead. Faced with Nathan's waning erection, Graverobber finds himself recalling another fantasy. Taking him in hand and leaning in, he favors Nathan with a long lick from base to tip. He grins into his prize when Nathan barely stiffles a surprised yelp. He is ready in no time.

Without leaving his post, Graverobber reaches up for the bottle of lubricant, momentarily requiring two hands to slick his fingers. He sets it aside and wraps slick hand around Nathan's cock, giving him two firm strokes before setting one wet fingertip to his entrance. It's been a while, if there ever was a first time before this (he takes a shuddering breath to keep from coming right then at the thought), Graverobber thinks when Nathan fists the sheets and arches up from the stimulation. He works in one finger, then two, pumping them slowly, pausing now and then to add more lube.

Nathan is a wreck by the time he takes the third, skin slick with sweat, his damp hair tossed and sticking to his forehead. "Please." He gasps, hips arching up into a gentle thrust of fingers, "Please, now. I can't take this much longer."

His words put chills down Graverobber's spine. He needs both trembling hands to roll the condom on and slick his cock and Nathan takes the opportunity to touch him, pulling him down for breathless kisses and tweaking his nipples, the brief spark of pain only amping up his pleasure. When Graverobber leans over Nathan, one hand is cupping his cheek to hold him in a searing kiss, the other is holding his cock as he pushes slowly into him.

He swallows Nathan's whimpers, soothes him softly. He doesn't know how long it takes, but finally, his thighs are pressed to Nathan's ass. He gasps for air as if he's run a minute mile and Graverobber gasps to keep himself from coming. Nathan is a vice around his cock. When Nathan moans, "Move, please, god, now." Graverobber can barely hold himself in check. He draws out slowly, and it's agony, pushing home is a hundred times as sweet.

One wet hand wraps around Nathan's cock and he sobs, jerking Graverobber down for desperate kisses as he pushes up into each thrust. "My god, Nathan." Graverobber whispers, covering his face with kisses as he sets a slow pace, "You feel so good. Perfect. I wish- I had this all the time. Oh, Nathan." Nathan grunts "harder" and he trails off into nonsense praise, as their pace picks up and he drives into Nathan with the force of man possessed.

It isn't long before Nathan is pushing up into his hands, mouth open as he strangles on a scream, somehow clenching even tighter as come stripes his stomach. Graverobber comes with a painful gasp, hips jerking helplessly as he rides out his orgasm.

Nathan is boneless under him when he comes back to himself. His eyes are closed and his chest is still heaving. Graverobber leans down to kiss his pulse, fluttering just under the slick skin at the base of his throat. Nathan groans, turning his head weakly. "Graverobber," he croaks, "I-"

"Go to sleep, Nathan." Graverobber whispers, trailing his kisses up to Nathan's slack lips, "There's plenty of room here."

Nathan looks up at him, dazed and smiling sleepily. "Thank you." He whispers, plying one more kiss, "Thank you, so much."

Graverobber smiles against his lips. "It was my pleasure." Nathan huffs a laugh and turns his cheek to the pillow under his head, asleep in moments.

Graverobber eases off the bed, making the short trip to his small bathroom. He wets a small towel with hot water, wringing it as much as he can. He gets a good look in the mirror as has to keep himself from grinning like a maniac. Usually ghostly pale, his cheeks are flushed and a sheen of sweat is creating a shimming effect across his shoulders. And it was Nathan. He washes up briefly, just wiping down the most uncomfortable places.

Wetting a clean towel, he goes back to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to watch Nathan sleep, sprawled across the sheets, gloriously naked. He kneels on the edge of the mattress, wiping up Nathan's sloppy mouth, swiping up his neck and down his stomach to wash away the evidence of their activity. He eases Nathan onto his side, the other man shuffling a little in his sleep. He cleans Nathan gently, thoroughly.

There is dim light filtering through the narrow windows set high into wall and Nathan is beautiful. He doesn't look younger, Graverobber is glad for that, Nathan's age is very attractive on him, but he's serene, lips curled in a tiny smile. Graverobber leans down and presses a soft kiss to his temple. "Stay." he whispers as he presses close, "If I can't have forever, let me hold you tonight." Nathan doesn't move, only sighs as Graverobber spoons up behind him, wrapping one arm around his waist, the other providing a pillow for his head. He reaches down and pulls a blanket up over them both. It is warm and comfortable. Graverobber presses his face to Nathan's naked shoulder and molds his body as tight as he can to Nathan's fever-heat. He sleeps.

**A****/N: ****And BAM! the rating goes up. What the fuck, guys? Anyway, I got Repo! for Christmas, from my bestie April, and then she goes and posts a fic and gets all challengey. So in a fit of disgruntled Christmas joy, I wrote porn! ****Hope some of you liked.**


End file.
